Rome: Total War 1
Name: Rome: Total War
Player: Crux
Carthage Campaign
The campaign against the power of Rome had been a long and arduous one. But for all that it had gone well.
Carthage had been blessed with a long sequence of fine rulers and had expanded her borders rapidly. Rome itself had been taken some 15 years before as our mighty armies surged north from the tip, sweeping one roman town after another before them. The powerful Julii were a distant memory, the Scipii a weak shadow cowering in the north. Only the Brutii remained with any force, but even they were fading before our might.
In addition to our conquests in Italia, the entire Iberian Peninsula was ours as we banished the Gauls and Spaniards into the frozen lands of the north. Our might was unequaled.
Hence it was no small surprise when a small fleet was attacked by the Macedonians, who apparently were lending aid to their Roman allies. Five years earlier a trade agreement with the Macedonians was looked upon as a mark of peace between us. This surprise was lessened when our diplomat sent word from Sparta. The Macedonians had taken Corinth and Sparta was under siege. The Greece had been our sole allies through the long war and although their help had been limited to the occasional naval conflict, they had proven trustworthy allies. It was a shock they had sent no word of their plight, nor asked for aid. Their strange silence was quickly written off to Greek pride as Carthage's rulers met to decide what action to take.
The lands of Greece were ripe for the taking, and simple inaction would allow us to take them from the Macedonians with what we guessed would be little effort. We had simply to sit by while both sides exhausted themselves, then sweep in after the Greeks fell and our word would be unsullied.
It was quickly decided that this line of action would not be acceptable. This led to another problem. With no forces in the immediate area, troops would have to be transported by ship. It was estimated the Greeks had two years at most before the Macedonians had amassed sufficient siege weaponry to assault the walls of the city. A new army had been formed specifically for conquest of the Macedonians, but it sat in Carthage herself. No fleet existed there to take the army all the way to Sparta, and even if one did it would likely never arrive in time. A decent sized force was laying siege to the Brutii north of Sparta, and it would have to break siege to rescue the Greeks from annihilation.
A small fleet was dragged together and the army marched to the sea. It seemed we would arrive in plenty of time as the journey to Sparta was not expected to take more than 3 or 4 months in all. The fleet set sail with high expectations, sailing south towards Greece. We were three quarters of the way there when disaster struck. Unbeknown to us, the Macedonians had set an army of carpenters building ships over the past ten years, preparing for their conflict with us. Dawn came when morning and revealed we had run into a massive Macedonian fleet. Undaunted, we sailed right at them, prepared for battle. The Macedonians' sheer numbers were too much, and we were forced to retreat north, limping along with great losses. We had to find another way. The fleet moved Northeast, looking to sneak down the coast. This was a risky tactic as we might find ourselves trapped against land by the larger fleets of the Macedonians.
In addition, our new course would take much longer and we might not arrive in time!
Many days and nights were spent in tense silence aboard the ships, lookouts eyeing the horizon for enemy masts. Finally, more than a year after beginning our march to the sea, we arrived in Sparta. No time could be lost, and we immediately began a forced march heading for the city. Sleepless nights were spent on foot, chewing through the miles as we raced against time to rescue the Greek city.
Finally we made it, arriving in the dark of night to see the campfires of the Macedonians littered across the plain in front of the city. Exhausted, watches were posted and we slept like dead men, anticipating battle in the morning. As it turned out, we had arrived with not a moment to spare. We awoke before dawn and prepared to fight. Lining the hills above the plain, we saw the Macedonians massing for their assault on the walls. What gave us pause however was the fact they numbered thrice our own forces, and we knew the Greeks could provide little help from inside the city.
The heavy onagers were immediately put to work raining fiery death on the men below. They frantically tried to turn their own catapults to face us, but most were destroyed by the onslaught of burning pitch and rock.
Their pikemen quickly formed up to face us, lines of sharp spears aligned in our direction in a matrix of promised death. Undaunted the Sacred Band, the finest infantry in all of Carthage began moving forward, their own phalanxes menacing as they approached. The Macedonians sent heavy cavalry charging at the left flank, but it was quickly sent fleeing as the long spears of the Band decimated their charge. We continued to approach until only a hundred yards separated our forces. A great roar went up as the Sacred Band lowered their spears and surged forward in a wave, crashing into the lines of the Macedonians.
They fell beneath our charge like wheat before the scythe, but for every man to fall two would step forward and take his place.
Even the highly disciplined Band could not stand up to the sheer force of numbers indefinitely, and the momentum of our charge began to wane. To make matters worse, the inaccuracy of the onagers prevent their providing continued fire upon the enemy. Our forces were falling rapidly now, and the day was looking lost when we heard a roar from the back of the Macedonian army. The Greeks had sallied forth from the gates and charged into the back of the Macedonian army, cutting the enemy down before them. Attacked on two fronts, the Macedonian phalanxes would not properly defend themselves, and panic quickly set in. Our own forces, sensing that victory hung in the balance, pushed forward heedless of casualties. Unable to withstand the pressure, the Macedonians wilted, their army routing across the plains away from the city. Cavalry from both ourselves and the Greeks rode down the enemy as they fled.
Bodies littered the plain, the crows circling overhead in anticipation of a gruesome feast. The grass was red with the blood of fallen soldiers, and the moans of the wounded made a tragic choir for the day's horrific slaughter. The Greeks had been saved, but the cost had been high.